Raised by Four and the Philosopher's Stone
by Sakura Ichigo Morihiko
Summary: Summoning is the most dangerous of rituals. Specifically, summoning humans through time. However, there is a way to do this safely, and Dorea Potter has done so successfully. As she heals from the past and wanders towards her future, she's thrown into the limelight and forced to take up a title that she despises. The Girl-Who-Lived attends Hogwarts... Full summary inside!
1. Chapter 1: The Bracelet

**Raised by Four and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Summary: Summoning is the most dangerous of rituals. Specifically, summoning humans through time. However, there is a way to do this safely, and Dorea Potter has done so successfully. As she heals from the past and wanders towards her future, she's thrown into the limelight and forced to take up a title that she despises. The Girl-Who-Lived attends Hogwarts, only there's an unknown danger around every corner, a danger that cannot be predicted by anyone...**

**Warnings: Fem! Grey! Smart! Strong! Harry, Good! Founders, Ministry/Ron/Molly/Percy/Hermione bashing, minor bashing of the teachers, abuse mentioned in some of the chapters, violence, and swearing, a few OCs! You have been warned!**

**Main Characters: Fem!Harry, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, ****Dumbledore, ****the Twins, Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, OC 1, OC 2, OC 3.**

**The list above would be all the people that I would put under in the sections, but as this story mainly revolves around Dorea(fem!Harry) and the Founders, I'm only putting them in the search. About the first half of this chapter is from the book itself, but the rest is my own. From there, the story will have the basic plot remaining canon - nothing else will be so. Ron and Hermione will NOT be friends with Dorea, Dorea will have a healthier childhood, and will understand what real friends are supposed to be like. In my opinion, Ron and Hermione aren't actual healthy friends, they're both too pushy and demanding, and they can be really dense and rude to Harry in canon. As such, I've selected other friends for Dorea to have. Understand?**

**~O~O~O~O~O~**

**November 2nd, 1981**

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, _looking_ at the sign; cats couldn't read maps _or_ signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt —these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.

Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. _He_ didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's.

He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard —"

" — yes, their daughter, Dorea —"

Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a daughter called Dorea, or at least something similar. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his niece _was_ called Dorea. He'd never even seen the girl. It might have been Delilah. Or Dora. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if _he'd_ had a sister like that… but all the same, those people in cloaks…

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw—and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

"Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"_And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behavingvery unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight,there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise._

_Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." Thenewscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with theweather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"_

"_Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that havebeen acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been_ _phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of_ _shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next_ _week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."_

Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight?

Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er — Petunia, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"

"_So? _" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… _her _crowd."

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could,

"Their daughter — she'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

"What's her name again? Destiny, isn't it?"

"Dorea. Nasty, freakish name, if you ask me. No doubt from her father's side of the family."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something.

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters _were_ involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect _them_…

How very wrong he was.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.

A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed.

Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots.

His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known."

He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter.

He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads.

People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has_ gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A _what_?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has_ gone —"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this

'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort_." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying

'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring.

"But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, _Voldemort_, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too — well — _noble_ to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said "The owls are nothing next to the _rumors_ that are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared?

About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true.

Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're _saying_," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — _dead_."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped in horror.

"Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…"

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know… I know…" he said heavily, choking back a sob.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's daughter, Dorea. But he couldn't. He couldn't kill that tiny little girl. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Dorea Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's — it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done… all the people he's killed… he couldn't kill a little girl? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop him… but how in the name of heaven did Dorea survive?"

"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know. Not truly, at least."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Dorea to her aunt and uncle. They're the only family she has left now."

"You don't mean – you can't _possibly_ mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Dorea Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for her," said Dumbledore firmly. "Her aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to her when she's older. I've written them a letter —"

"A _letter_?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a _letter_? These people will never understand her! She'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Dorea Potter day in the future — there will be books written about Dorea — every child in our world will know her name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes —

yes, you're right, of course. But how is the child getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Dorea underneath it, shuddering at the mere thought.

"Hagrid's bringing her."

"You think it — _wise_ — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild_ — long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding very much relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got 'er, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got 'er out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. She fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby girl, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over her forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "She'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well — give her here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with." Dumbledore shakily took Dorea into his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.

"Could I — could I say good-bye to 'er, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Dorea and gave her what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it.

"But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Dorea off ter live with Muggles —"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Dorea gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Dorea's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her.

Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once; and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

**Sighing, he looked back at the little girl, thinking of the bracelet that he had placed around her wrist as he left her on that doorstep. A backup plan, if you would, for in case her family did not accept her as they should. It would bring her most powerful ancestors that would be willing to protect her, choosing the first ones that it would find in her family timeline and bringing them to the present to raise and protect her. A Summoning Bracelet, with a few additional protections that would keep it from the sight of Muggles, keep it from getting damaged, and that would alert him should the magic stored within it activate before she entered Hogwarts.**

"Good luck, Dorea, my dearest little girl," he murmured, a single tear streaking down his cheek. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Dorea Potter rolled over inside her blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside her and she slept on, not knowing she was special, not knowing she was famous, not knowing she would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that she would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by her cousin Dudley…

She couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Dorea Potter — the Girl—Who—Lived!"

**~O~O~O~ FROM HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE - CHAPTER 1 ~O~O~O~**

**~O~O~O~O~O~**

**July 31, 883**

Helga Hufflepuff was holding her head in her hands, nursing a horrible hangover. She, Salazar, and Godric had had a contest last night to see who could drink the most ale before they fell unconscious, and she had been proud to say that she had won, up until she awoke this morning. The only reason that Rowena had given the three of them pain relieving potions was because if she hadn't, they wouldn't have made any progress with planning the next school year.

The four friends had worked together for half a decade building a brilliant castle from its ruined form to be used as a magical school for all the magical children that they could find. What they hoped to achieve was a way to prevent the Witch Hunters from stealing these children from their beds as either a way to find more Magical Borns that were willing to take their place, or to execute them in the name of their church. This was the reason that Salazar detested Mundanes, especially Witch Hunters, so. His Mundane Born wife, Sunnifa , had been 6 months pregnant when her brother, a Witch Hunter, had discovered that she was Magical and had her burned at the stake. The man had knowingly murdered an innocent woman and her unborn child, he knew that his sister was the most gentle being on the earth and was physically incapable of harming another living being, and yet he had turned against her and murdered her for a gift that she had been born with. Salazar had sworn the day that he and his three children buried their unborn girl and

Helga allowed her head to drop and slam against the desk before her, letting out a groan of pain while she did so. Why did the Mundanes have to hate them so? Why were they driving them into hiding, murdering all Magical beings that they could find? What caused this fear of them, why must everyone be hated so much?

Helga exited her private chambers, heading towards the kitchens for a light meal. Just like the chambers of her friends', her chambers were sealed off from the school to all but a select few. Godric had somehow managed to convince the students to refer to Salazar's private chambers as the Chamber of Secrets, due to the privacy wards that Salazar had set up around his chambers. Salazar had gotten revenge by setting up a scrying mirror into Godric's chambers, broadcasting to the entire school as to Godric's sleeping habits - which were to say, he slept like the dead and cuddled up to his familiar, a Fire Griffin by the name of Esmond.

As Helga entered the kitchens and was greeted by the Elvish Staff, she sat and pondered as to how the school and castle itself came to be. The castle had been standing for only a decade now, and each of the four of them had half a dozen students under each of their names, the names that they had taken when they built the castle.

Godric had been born Godric Korhonen, on a small island just off the coast of a small town by the name of Varsinais in one of the northern countries, Helga wasn't sure which. His village was constantly attacked by griffins in search of food and supplies for their mates and cublings. Godric, at the time, had been a weak child and didn't enjoy the idea of attacking these griffins, and as such did all that he could possibly do to aid the creatures. When his village discovered what he was doing, they banished him, disowning him and branding him with the name Griffin-Tuki, a name that would dub him as a traitor to his own people. Three months of living on his own in the wilderness, Godric had come across an elderly and extremely powerful sorceress by the name of Gwenfrewi Hogwarts. Lady Hogwarts had initially refused to teach Godric the ways of magic, in which he had been banned from learning on the island for his aiding the griffins, until he explained to her as to why he was living in the wilderness and not within his home village. Lady Hogwarts, according to Godric, had grown enraged when she discovered how cruelly his kindness had been taken, and had taken Godric to her home before she cursed the islanders to become magyr, cursed to watch as the child that they had banished for their petty reasons would grow to greatness. Godric had only been 10 when Lady Hogwarts took him in.

Rowena had been born Rowena Da Silva of the Fortunate Islands. Her father had been killed by mundanes before she had been born, and as such, her mother locked her away in a castle tower so as to protect her for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, her mother was also killed by mundanes when she had finished the enchantments on Rowena's tower, when the most intelligent woman that Helga had ever met was only 7 years of age. During Godric and Lady Hogwarts' travels, they came across Rowena's tower, which had been enchanted to repel and distract mundanes. It had taken Lady Hogwarts mere moments to undo the locking charms on the tower itself, allowing her and Godric entrance to the tower. Rowena had confronted the two with her father's bow and arrow, her magic acting up to protect her from whom she believed to be threats. Like she had with Godric, Lady Hogwarts took Rowena in when she discovered that the child had no one but an Elvish servant to rely on. Rowena had been 9, Godric had been 11. At age 13 she had discovered her own familiar, an albino raven by the name of Edite.

Helga felt that of the other founders, she was closest to Godric in their past. Helga had been born Helga Ivashchenko, the princess of a small kingdom in northern Ruthenia. She had had three younger siblings, two brothers and a sister, all of whom she hadn't heard of in years. Her parents had arranged a marriage with the prince of a neighbouring kingdom for her, to which she had venomously disagreed with. The man they wanted her to marry was fifteen years her elder, he was a drunkard and known for abusing his servants, and someone that Helga openly hated with a passion. When her mother attempted to lock her within her chambers to prevent her from running away from the wedding, Helga had lost control of her magick and attacked her mother, knocking her unconscious. Her family declared that she was a devil worshipper and had arranged for her to be executed, only for her favourite mundane servant, Yuriy, to smuggle her from the prison cell that she had been sent to and out of the country, at the cost of his own life. She had escaped her kingdom and fled to Moravia, where she had come across Lady Hogwarts, Godric, and Rowena while fighting against mundanes that had been attempting to burn her at the stake. Helga had only been 13 when Lady Hogwarts had taken her on as another apprentice, providing her shelter and safety that she hadn't seen in years. Shortly after, she discovered her own familiar, a Wolpertinger whom she had named Yuriy, after the loyal man who had given up his life for her own.

Salazar's story, without any argument, was the most saddening of the four. His mother had been a halfblood, born of a mundane woman and a magical man, whereas his father had been completely magical. Salazar had a single sibling, Swithin, with whom he was under pressure as to who would inherit their father's wealth. Their mother had been captured and murdered by mundanes when both Salazar and Swithin were very young, with Salazar only have a handful of memories of the beautiful woman. Because of the abuse that Salazar and his brother faced from their father's side of the family for "being of dirty blood", Salazar and Swithin had grown up with only each other for company. Eventually, their father perished to an unknown illness, naming his favoured son, Swithin, his heir and leaving Salazar only a few heirlooms that had belonged to his mother. As such, Swithin turned on his brother and made plans to kill him in the dead of night in order to prevent his elder brother from receiving anything. Salazar, using the knowledge that his tutors had given him, managed to steal the vast majority of his brother's inheritance without Swithin even knowing and ran away, determined to make his own way in the cruel world. It was shortly after that his familiar, Bestandan, a basilisk, was hatched and hidden away in a cave. Not even a year had passed after Bestandan, or as they knew her, Bessy, had hatched when he had met Lady Hogwarts, Godric, Rowena, and Helga. He had joined the other three in becoming Lady Hogwarts' apprentice, causing the sorceress to make an oath that Salazar would become her last student. The five of them then travelled throughout Norðreyjar, until they came across the remains of an old castle on the mainland. The only remaining bits of the castle were the dungeons and the foundations, and Lady Hogwarts had been quick to determine that only the first few floors of this particular castle had been made of stone, the rest being made of wood for one reason or another.

As her four students had decided that they wanted to create a school that would become a safe haven for Magical Children throughout the Isles, Lady Hogwarts had determined that this castle would become the foundation for their school. It had taken them half a decade to finish building the castle using only magic, but once it was finished it was a sight to behold. Helga and Salazar had worked together, using Earth and Water elemental magic respectively to carve the landscape to provide extra protection for their school. To the west they build a massive forest, welcoming a centaur tribe to live within the lands as long as they agreed to aid in protecting the castle whenever it was attacked.

Rowena had created a library, filled with tomes that she had brought from her tower and enough supplies to last them several decades of teaching students to read and write in Latin, the language of the Church. While they could use any unfamiliar language, they all agreed to use Latin as it would cause Mundanes to think twice before they attacked any Magical - after all, how could they say that the Magical was truly evil when they could completely understand the same language as their precious priests?

Godric had arranged for several massive towers to be built, peering high above the forests with turrets that would be useful for defending their castle when it was attacked. He and Salazar worked together to built countless secret passageways throughout the castle, passageways that Rowena was positive would be lost to the sands of time with the amount of battles that their school was likely to see.

Salazar had taken control of the dungeons, creating a maze-like structure that only the five of them knew the secrets to in order to enter the Ward Room. He had also arranged for the Ritual Room to be built not too far from the Ward Room - in fact, all one had to do was remove the fake wall and they would be able to enter the Ward Room.

Helga herself had aided Lady Hogwarts in designing the layout of the castle itself - 7 floors, three floors of dungeons, 13 corridors per floor, outer walls of the castle, 3 main towers and 7 minor towers, 49 rooms per floor and 9 windows per corridor. When including the fact that the castle was built over two of the largest Ley lines in the world, the arithmetical formulae for the power and protection that the castle would provide its occupants was simply astounding. The Founders knew that the only reason that they had been able to build the castle the way it was in such a short amount of time, even with the usage of magic, was because of the temporary Time Displacement Ward that she had placed. What had been approximately 4 or 5 years for the five of them and their intendeds had turned out to be closer to 400 years in the outer world. As such, anyone that the four of them and their intendeds might have known were deceased. As such, they discovered that they had very little to adjust to. The Mundanes were just as hateful as ever, though the languages had changed a bit over time (though using Memory Teachings solved that problem very easily), the Church had diverged into two sects, Rome no longer ruled over Albion, etcetera, etcetera.

It was all very pleasing to discover - until they found out about the witch hunts.

It was shortly after Lady Hogwarts lowered the Time Displacement Ward that they discovered it. Apparently the amount of magic that they had been using had attracted the attention of quite a few magicals, who had set up a community not far from the castle grounds. They had explained about the Witch Hunts, how the people of Europe managed to convince the Church (which, while not harmless had taken a docile standpoint towards Wiccanry and Magick when they had been children) to hunt and murder anyone that they believed to be a "Witch", of which the most accurate translation in Magick was an Incantatar, someone whose magic was stolen or taken either from the Natural World or from another Magical being.

With the discovery of the Witch Hunts, the four friends and their Mistress all agreed that they would set up protective wards against all Mundane items, from both the past and what may come in the future, to keep their castle and future school from being harmed by the Mundanes. Helga, Salazar, and Lady Hogwarts worked together to come up with the arithmetical and runic formulae that would be able to power such a selection of wards. Unfortunately, the only conceivable and morale way to create such a powerful base for the wards would be through the willing self sacrifice of a powerful Magical - specifically, a human Magical. The four students all agreed to forget about the idea, and to find a different way to power the base wards. Lady Hogwarts, however, had a different idea.

Three days after she disappeared, they found her bloodless body in the Warding Room.

She had killed herself in order to protect her students, and all of the future students that would grace the halls of the castle that she helped build. In honour of her sacrifice, they named the school after her and used her favourite saying as their motto: Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon, meaning to never intentionally rouse that which you cannot handle. An excellent piece of advice when handling magick, a piece that the four friends took deep into heart.

After several months of mourning, the Founders and their families dared to leave the castle that they had grown to love and call home, venturing out into the world mere hours away.

Unfortunately, it turned out that Sunnifa's brother had discovered that his sister was a witch, and had become an Incantatar and Christian Priest in order to find her again and avenge what he believed to be the murder of his wife, whom had died in childbirth.

It was later that day that Helga, Rowena, and Godric were forced to hold Salazar back as they watched their heavily pregnant friend be burned at the stake.

Helga slammed a fist against the wall nearest to her, causing the few students wandering about the castle to run away in fear of angering the distraught sorceress. It had been years, about half a decade, since Sunnifa's death, and it still hurt Helga to think about it, to remember watching her close friend scream in utter pain and terror as her brother laughed, watching as his "evil" sister burned before his very eyes. To see the utmost devastation as Salazar's heart shattered, only to be even slightly healed by his daughter, Celeste, and his son, Cyneheard.

Biting back a sob, Helga was about to wander into the kitchens when she heard it. It was a cry, from what sounded to be a young child, and it resonated through the air and into Helga's bones with a terrible sense of suffering and desperation.

_"Help me..."_

Helga spun on her heel, searching for the source of the sound. Looking up, she could see the faint flicker of a golden magick floating down the corridor. Taking off after it, it wasn't long until she heard the voice again.

_"Someone... Anyone... Please help me..."_

Helga turned a corner when she crashed face first into Salazar. The two stumbled, regained their footing, and looked at each other.

"Did you hear that child?" Helga demanded. Salazar nodded, his chartreuse eyes meeting Helga's russet brown.

"I take it that you know not of its origins, then?" he inquired, running a hand through his raven black locks. "If that is so, then it is a wonder as to how it has passed through Lady Hogwarts' wards..." he pondered. Helga nodded, and the two began running down the corridor once more, only this time Salazar kept a hand on one of his silver and malachite daggers. As the two reached the seventh floor, they met Rowena and Godric, who were pacing outside of the Room of Intent, the room that Rowena and Lady Hogwarts had designed to create a pocket dimension depending on the wishes of the person before it. The wisher was required to walk before the door 3 times, wishing for the same thing each time, in order for the room to open. Rowena turned to the newcomers as the door formed out of the wall.

"Have the two of you any ideas as to whom is crying out for aid?" she questioned. As Helga and Salazar shook their heads, she sighed. "Godric and I know not either, and the thought of a child in so much pain..." The brunette turned to her brassy haired companion, Godric, who was gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

"I swear to Lavernia" the Goddess of the Sun. "That if one of those Hunters has gotten their hands on a Magical Childling..." Godric trailed off, the rage on his face telling his companions exactly as to what he would do to them the moment that he found those men. It was the same thing that any of them would do; they would utterly destroy them, leaving nothing behind to be found, except perhaps some ashes on the wind. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Godric threw open the door of the Room of Intent, walking inside with his friends at his side.

What they saw was the last thing that they were expecting.

Inside the room was a grand hall, the walls decorated with what appeared to be upside down trees. Upon closer inspection, one could see that rather than just random decorations, they were family trees - specifically, their family trees. Each of the four wandered over to their family tree, looking at the strangely golden branch that was shining like the sun.

Salazar's tree was the closest to the door, as well as the longest. Of the two branches that represented his children, it was Celeste's name that was golden, meaning that whomever was calling must be from her side of the family. He didn't panic over the thought of calling through time for aid, had he and his fellow founders not used a time ward to build the very castle they were standing in? Instead, he focused on the family tree instead. Seeing who his daughter would be marrying, Salazar groaned. It was Tentigo Potter, the single most arrogant and stuck up child that Salazar would ever come across. He had been forced to create a potion to correct his vision after Rowena had cursed him for one flirting attempt too many. If that boy didn't smarten up before he wed his daughter, he was going to take him on a very _interesting_ little trip around Europe...

To his right, Salazar heard Godric laughing and calling his name. Salazar raised an eyebrow at his friend and then turned back to his family tree - only to groan even louder than before. He loved Godric, he really did, but the man was very much like how he had described his family to be, only he wasn't prejudiced against anything without good reason. As such, Salazar was very much annoyed to discover that his future grandson would be marrying Godric's future granddaughter. Great, so that meant all his descendants on his daughter's side of the family would now be hyper, reckless, and stupid. At least they had his blood to counteract Godric's.

Tracing it down, Salazar was surprised to find that the Potters kept their surname, men marrying into the family taking on the name itself. The only reason he found propose for his was that the Potters became some sort of high nobility, most likely within Uther's Council in itself. As the laws currently were, all of which were decreed by King Uther, families appointed nobility by the Royal Family, no matter what age this could happen in, would be capable of keeping their Family Names. If one noble family were older than another noble family, then the older noble family name would be considered more important, and as such become the name that would be kept.

As Salazar and Godric were tracing their now conjoined family line, Helga and Rowena were doing the exact same on the opposite walls. Rowena's Blood Adopted son, a boy that she had named Edmundo when she had made him her flesh and blood, had married and had three children, whom married into the Bones', the Lovegood's, and the Evansclears'. Seeing as how the Evansclear line was the only golden line, this is what Rowena began to follow. To her surprise, 6 generations down the Evansclear line and her finger met Helga's, as this was the point in time that their blood mixed into one line. Following the line, both Helga and Rowena were shocked to see that the names became silver rather than gold, meaning that these descendants of theirs were squibs. They had even changed their name from Evansclear to just simply Evans, most likely having been cast into the Mundane World out of shame. Not disowned from the family, the Evansclears were a family that the four friends personally taught, and as such they all knew that the family considered loved ones to be the most precious thing on the planet.

As the two women followed the Evansclear, now known as Evans, line, the two men on the opposite side of the room were following the Potter Line. The two lines were slowly getting closer and closer, and eventually all four fingers landed on a single, glowing and pulsing name.

Dorea Lillian-Violetta Potter-Black.

Salazar's jaw dropped at the name, knowing that this girl must be extremely powerful to call all four of them to her. The official Heiress of the Potter's and the Black's... But why was she calling the four of them to her? It was Rowena that provided the answer between gasping sobs.

"The poor girl..." Rowena sobbed, covering her mouth with her sapphire blue sleeve. "She must be using a Summoning Bracelet..." The other three tensed at the words that came out of their friend's mouth.

A Summoning Bracelet was an extremely rare and monitored piece of magic, as depending on the strength and need of the caller defined as to who would be the one(s) to answer the call. The Summoning Bracelet was only capable of being used by magical children with old family ties that were being abused, and horribly abused at that. Godric and Helga both growled viciously, Godric reaching for his sword and Helga for her battle axe. Salazar looked at Rowena, running his fingers through his ink black hair.

"Ro," he started. "How do we get to the child before she's killed?" he asked. Rowena tensed and looked at the name for a moment before she nodded.

"We need to accept the call, and her magic will bring us through time." she said, wiping the tears that were streaking down her cheeks. "As we move through the sands of time, all knowledge of what has happened will enter our minds. I don't know what will happen after that, though..." Fixing her robes, Rowena looked at Helga, Salazar, and Godric. "Do the three of you accept the call?" she asked. The three looked back.

"Do you?" they asked in unison. Rowena nodded.

"Of course."

"Then so do we."

With those words, the golden magic swirled from Dorea Lillian-Violetta Potter-Black's name, pulling the four into the tapestry, through the sands of time, and to the child in need.

**~O~O~O~O~O~**

**4 Privet Drive, 1983 **

The four landed on a paved road in the middle of a suburban area, the houses surrounding them all exactly the same build, the only differences being the colours of the bricks, the styles of the windows, and the gardens in front of them. Helga and Godric peered at the houses in distaste; the two of them had always hated assimilation. Rowena closed her eyes, focusing on the slight tug that was the child's golden coloured magic. Coming to a grasp on the magic, Rowena's eyes snapped open towards the brown brick house with roses and lilies in the garden, a single snowbell tree in the front yard. The address was 4 Privet Drive, a Mundane home and the location of Dorea's Mundane guardians, and torturers.

Salazar followed Rowena's eyes, and glared at the house in question. Casting a quick Glamour on himself and his friends so that they would appear to be modern Mundanes, he made his way across the road to the house on the corner, his eyes burning into the house before him. Godric was to his left, Helga to his right, and Rowena behind them, muttering Healing spells that they may possibly need for the child. May the Great Lady have mercy on the Mundanes, for if Rowena were forced to use those spells, Salazar and Godric would flay them within an inch of their pathetic lives.

With a wave of Godric's hand, the front door slammed open, revealing a horse-like woman in a knee-length pastel green dress in the front hall, a string of pearls around her long neck and her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. See the strangers entering her home, the woman screamed and ran to her right, only for a whale-like man to appear in front of the four instead.

"Who do you think you are?!" he bellowed, spittle flying from his bushy mustache. "I demand you leave at once - you are breaking and entering!" Godric sneered, the Mundanes from their time were much more frightening than this fat man before him.

"We're here to right the wrongs that you have done to the Magical Child in your care." he snarled. The man's face went from bright red, to purple, to a wondrous shade of grey, then back to bright red all within 10 second.

"Y-You're all like her - you're all freaks!" he spluttered. Godric withdrew and raised his sword, pointing the blade to the man's fat, non-existent neck. His eyes were cold and cruel, and the man began to sweat heavily as he realised that he just said the wrong thing.

"_What_. Did. You. Just. _Say_?" Godric hissed, pressing the tip of the blade further into the man's flesh, breaking the skin and allowing a small trickle of blood to flow down to his white dress shirt. The man gulped, and the stench of soiled clothing filled the air as he wet himself. "You. Did. _Not_. Just. Call. An. Innocent. Child. A. _Freak_."

While Godric was putting the fear of the gods in the man before him, Rowena crept towards the locked cupboard under the stairwell, having heard a soft, feminine whimper sound from the small space. Slowly unlocking and opening the door, despite the protests from the woman hiding in the sitting room, Rowena stared in utter horror at the sight before her.

There, in the cupboard that was barely bigger than an infant's crib, was a small girl, curled up and bleeding from her back. She had thick, curly black hair that was slicked against her skin with dried blood, her emerald coloured eyes were barely open and glazed over as she was losing consciousness, her skin was chalk white from blood loss and lack of sunlight, and she was wearing bloodstained clothes that were not only meant for the opposite gender, but were several sizes too large. The girl looked up at Rowena, her eyes weak as she attempted to remain conscious.

"Help..." she whispered, her voice hoarse and soft, like she had just been screaming for hours. Tears of horror and rage streaked down Rowena's face as she reached for the child, only to be stopped by a high pitched, childish voice.

"DON'T TOUCH REA!"

Rowena was flung back several feet by a young girl's brass and violet coloured accidental magic. The woman stared in shock as a slightly larger girl appeared, holding the child that she could now confirm was Dorea Potter-Black in her arms. Her hair was golden and curled lovingly around her chubby cheeks, her skin naturally pale and her ears slightly pointed. But what caused Rowena to gasp was not any of these traits, but the child's eyes. They were an olive green in general, starting with a brighter green at the edge of the iris and becoming brown around her pupil. The shape of those eyes, the colour, and the way that they _glared_ at her...

Those eyes belonged to Lady Hogwarts.

This girl could only be her Mistress' reincarnation.

**~O~O~O~O~O~**

_**Name Meanings:**_

**Sunnifa (f): Sun Gift**

**Celeste (f): Heavenly**

**Eudora (f): Excellent Gift**

**Bestandan (f): Stands Beside**

**Esmond (m) Grace Protection**

**Gwenfrewi (f): Fair Peace**

**Edite (m): Blessed War**

**Swithin (m): Strong**

**Cyneheard (m): Royal bravery**

**Yuriy (m): George**

_**Locations:**_

**Fortunate Islands: now called the Canary Islands**

**Ruthenia: a region in Ukraine**

**Varsinais: Half the name of a town in Finland**

**Moravia: located just east of the Czech Republic**

**Norðreyjar: northern isles of Scotland**

**Stone/Metal Beliefs:**

**Malachite: Solar plexus purger, releases suppressed emotions, facilitates insight**

**Silver: *for the sake of this story* divine lunar powers, used only by worshippers of Selenite, the Magical Goddess of the Moon**

**I'm just going to state the ages at which the major events happened for each of the Founders:**

**Godric: 10 when banished, 11 when he met Lady Hogwarts, 16 when married and helped begin the creation of the castle, 20 when the castle is finished and father of his first child, 21 when Lady Hogwarts commits suicide to create the wards around the school, 27 when Summoned**

**Rowena: Orphaned at 7 years old, meets Lady Hogwarts at 9, begins helping build the school at 14, marries at 15, 16 when she has her first daughter, 18 when school is finished, 19 when Lady Hogwarts commits suicide to create wards around the school, 23 when Summoned**

**Helga: Arranged to marry/attacks mother/runs away at 11 years old, meets Lady Hogwarts at 13, begins building school at 15, school is finished at 19, 20 when Lady Hogwarts commits suicide to create wards around the school, married at 21, 25 when Summoned**

**Salazar: Runs away at 13, meets Lady Hogwarts at 14, begins building the castle at 15, marries and has first child at 16, has second child at 17, finishes building castle at 19, is 20 when Lady Hogwarts commits suicide to create school wards/wife is burned at the stake, 26 when summoned**

**NOTE ABOUT MAGICAL RELIGION: While I will be basing much of the Magical Religion off of Paganism and Wicca, the vast majority of the gods and goddesses that are worshipped will be my creations. Iif they do coincide with actual gods or goddesses, then that is completely by coincidence. For example, I'm making the Lady of the Lake the Mundane term for Lady of Avalon, or Lady of Magic, the Magical goddess of Magick. In another sense, the Phoenix, or Lord of Balance, is the Creator and Destroyer in Magical religion. These are two examples of deities that I've created, and as always there will be a Moon goddess and a Sun goddess, with a god for the Earth and a god for the Sky. Magick is all about balance - for every god there will be a goddess. Make sense?**

**And this was chapter one, chapter two will be the Founders adopting Dorea and the reincarnation of Lady Hogwarts, going to Gringotts, Dumbledore appears, and the six move into an Evansclear property.**

**Note: I have made up the House of Evansclear as a way to make Lily Potter related to Helga and Rowena, since this is what the plot needs. According to canon, Helena Ravenclaw was the only child of Rowena, and since she was murdered before she had children in canon, I made up Edmundo so as to find a way for Rowena's line to continue. Celeste Slytherin was my creation, and as such belongs to me. Dorea and Celeste will look very much alike, and as such Salazar will commonly take the role of Dorea's father, especially in the Mundane World. The story won't automatically go to Hogwarts, there will be scenes of Dorea and my OC's childhood with the Founders. Hogwarts comes around chapter 3, when we have a time skip over to when Dorea and my OC are 11.**

**Until next time!**

**Word Count: 11,009**


	2. Chapter 2: Healing

**Raised by Four and the Philosopher's Stone**

**Summary: Summoning is the most dangerous of rituals. Specifically, summoning humans through time. However, there is a way to do this safely, and Dorea Potter has done so successfully. As she heals from the past and wanders towards her future, she's thrown into the limelight and forced to take up a title that she despises. The Girl-Who-Lived attends Hogwarts, only there's an unknown danger around every corner, a danger that cannot be predicted by anyone...**

**Warnings: Fem! Grey! Smart! Strong! Harry, Good! Founders, Ministry/Ron/Molly/Percy/Hermione bashing, minor bashing of the teachers, abuse mentioned in some of the chapters, violence, and swearing, a few OCs! You have been warned!**

**Note: I have been asked about Dorea's pairing: She's ELEVEN in this section of the series (I'm gonna do all 7 books, it gets more and more AU as we go along), as such, at most she's going to have a schoolgirl crush on Bill (yes she does end up with Bill). It's not until the fourth book that she realises that she's in love with him, and it's not until the fifth book that she acts on it. I just wanted to make that clear for everyone that reads this: NO PAIRINGS UNTIL THE YULE BALL. Crushes, yes. Official pairings, no.**

**~O~O~O~O~O~**

Rowena stared at the girl in complete shock, her eyes widening as she and the small reincarnation of her later mentor competed in a staring contest. It was only the faint groaning that Dorea emitted that caused the two of them to break from each other's gaze and look down at the small girl. Rowena reached for her, but the blonde child held Dorea closer. Rowena's gaze softened as she saw the protectiveness that the girl held Dorea with, it reminded her of how Lady Hogwarts would look at either herself or her friends if they were ever injured. Rowena sighed, deciding to take the softer approach.

"I'm only here to help her," she said softly, inching towards the two in the cupboard. The blonde held Dorea closer to her body, her eyes staring into Rowena's with distrust and dislike. "I swear that I don't do anything to harm her, and if you want me to leave after she's healed then I will." The girl tensed and looked darkly at Rowena.

"If you're lying to me, you'll regret it." she growled. Rowena nodded once, and the girl moved closer to the young woman, Dorea still captured in her arms. Rowena cast a quick diagnostic spell on the girl and nearly cursed - she had several infected lacerations on her back, three broken ribs, her left femur was fractured, she had heavy bruising on her torso, upper arms and upper legs, and a punctured lung. Looking over her shoulder, Rowena called out for help.

"SALAZAR! HELGA! I NEED YOUR HELP!" she shouted, causing her three friends to tense up. Rowena only ever needed help with healing when it involved serious or infected injuries, and even then she only ever called out for either Salazar or Helga, almost never calling for both. Salazar sheathed his daggers and darted over to Rowena's side, Helga a mere step behind him.

"What do you need, Rowena?" he asked. Rowena began casting moderately strengthed preservation charms on Dorea, only to keep her condition from worsening.

"Salazar, you need to work on her back, she had several infected lacerations there that are in desperate need of being treated. Helga, you need to work on her ribs and legs, her left femur is broken and so are three of her ribs. I'll work on the rest, but we need to work as quickly as possible, we have no idea how much time she may possibly have left." Rowena stated quickly. The two growled slightly but nodded, Salazar pulling one of his many salves out of his Potions Belt, Helga whipping out her wand and casting healing spells left, right, and centre. The blonde child unwillingly left Dorea in Rowena's arms as the tiny girl was treated, watching in awe as the three worked miracles on the small, beaten body.

"I... I tried so hard to protect her..." she muttered, tears leaking from her large eyes as she watched her friend be healed right in front of her. "I wasn't always here... And I'm not so good at fixin' people..." She sniffed, wiping her nose on her baggy sleeve. Rowena looked up at the girl, seeing bruising on the side of her face and her arm from where the sleeve slid to reveal skin, and a pang of sympathy ran through her. This sight just reminded her so much of when Godric and Lady Hogwarts came across her, locked in that tower with just enough food to survive. Helga, having finished with Dorea's femur looked at the girl and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, her jaw tightening as the child flinched at the touch.

"You did the best that you could, dear, neither of you two should have had to go through this." she said gently, and returned to working on Dorea's ribs as Rowena worked on repairing her lung. Salazar having finished applying a thick layer of his salve on Dorea's now-healing back, moved over towards the blood girl, gently applying a pale blue salve against her bruise. The girl flinched, but when she realised that the salve was only reducing the pain and swelling, she allowed Salazar to continue. Slowly running a hand through the girl's hair, Salazar smiled.

"What is your name, child?" he asked. The girl sniffed again, wiped her nose and answered.

"M-Michaela Dupont-Evansclear..." she said, causing Rowena and Helga to tense and look at the girl in shock. She was related to the two of them! "Beckie always said I have two last names 'cause my mummy was a... A horse..." she said, her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why'd she say mummy was a horse?" she asked innocently. Salazar continued petting the girl, applying the salve to her arm and shoulder. A horse - this "Beckie" must have been calling Michaela's mother a whore, but for what reason? Could it be that she was the victim of an abusive relationship, and that she either passed away or left Michaela behind? It was most likely the former, since Michaela would have said something otherwise.

It was Godric that pulled the three out of the reverie.

"RO, LOOK OUT!" he shouted. Rowena's neck turned to peer out behind her so quickly that Helga would later swear she heard the bones cracking in protest, before her eyes widened and she covered both Dorea and Michaela with her body in order to protect them.

The horse-woman had gotten away from Godric, and was making for the three of them at a fast pace, French knife in hand. While Rowena was fast with a wand and a bow, when two innocent children were placed in front of her she did the exact same thing that any decent mother would do: protect them first.

While Rowena was guarding the children, Salazar and Helga snapped into action, Salazar charging at the woman, wand in hand, while Helga pulled her battle axe out of seemingly nowhere and standing in front of Rowena, determined to protect her friend and the children that this deranged woman wanted to attack so badly. The woman swiped at Salazar only to have her wrist caught in an iron-like grip and a wand pointed at her neck. The woman paled, flailing slightly as she tried to break free from Salazar's grip, but each movement she made caused Salazar to tighten his grip until he felt the bones beginning to crack from the amount of pressure being put on them. The woman whimpered in pain, but Salazar continued to squeeze her wrist, listening to the sick cracking sound that her bones made.

"Sit. Down. _Now_." he growled, throwing the woman's wrist back towards her. She stumbled backwards from the amount of force that Salazar used, but did as she was told and slowly sat on the floor, in front of a play crib that a wailing, fat child was sitting in. Salazar picked up the knife and chucked it as the wall, the blade sinking halfway through the plaster like it was made of butter. The woman flinched out of fear, trying to curl into a tiny enough ball that Salazar wouldn't notice her. It was then that she noticed the battle axe in Helga's hands. The woman screamed and tried to hide the boy behind her, a failed. The child was, quite simply, too fat for her boney body to hide. Salazar sneered at the woman, seeing her as the same type of person that was responsible for the murder of his wife and unborn daughter. The hate and fear in her expression acted like a beacon, shining bright for everyone in the house to see.

Salazar looked over at Godric, who had successfully managed the overweight man into a chair, Silenced him, and tied him down. The two looked at each other and nodded.

"Now," Godric said forcefully, looking from the woman to the man and back again. "We are going to have a _pleasant_ conversation, in which you will tell us everything you know about the child that you have abused." Godric cut the woman off as she opened her mouth to argue. "All of us know of magic, and the only way she could have possibly Summoned us here was if she was heavily abused. The two of you have no excuses - she is an innocent, and you are not." he growled, effectively silencing the woman before she could even speak. The man's face began to turn purple once more, but Godric ignored that in favour for the wailing child behind the woman. "And please silence your son, or I'll do it for you." he growled. The woman gasped in horror and pressed herself against the playpen - Godric didn't know what they were panicking about, he was merely going to Silence the child until they left with the girl. It wasn't like he was going to - oh, bollocks, it sounded like he was going to hurt the child. He really should think about what he says before he says it.

Slowly, Rowena and Helga both entered the sitting room, each holding a child in their arms. Rowena was holding a girl with hair almost identical to Salazar's, whereas Helga was holding a blonde girl with Elvish ears. Perhaps a Halfling Child that was trying to protect their descendant from her abusers? The idea did make sense - up until he looked into the child's eyes. He felt his heart stop for a moment, but it was a moment long enough for the weakness to physically show on his face and in his knees. The last time he had seen those eyes, Lady Hogwarts had been consulting the four of them on whether or not they should go through with the sacrifice to set up the wards.

She had argued that they could offer it to an elderly witch or wizard, someone who was already near death and wanted to do something that would help magical children across the country. What the four of them had no idea at the time was that she was referring to herself. She had been suffering from scrofungulus for a while now, hiding the fungus that she had been hacking up with excessive amounts of Glamours. It was purely by chance that the rest of the people she had been around hadn't caught the disease, though she was a very private person, so that might have helped her contain the contagious illness to only herself. Her dragon Familiar, Adair, had apparently been trying to heal her with his own magic, failing and merging himself into the heart stone of the school, promising to return when the school was in its moments of most danger.

Biting back a sob, Godric forced himself to look away from the girl. If, and only if, she were the reincarnation of their Mistress, they would willingly take her in and teach her all they knew. Because that was what she did for them, even if it were in a past life that she did not remember. It would only be fair for the four of them to repay that debt now, by raising her and loving her the way that she had them. She was the closest that they would ever have come to grandparents, and that was something that they would all hold dear in their hearts for as long as they would live. She brought them together, made them a family, gave them a home. They would never be able to fully repay her unless they did the exact same thing for her reincarnation.

Rowena, glaring so darkly at the man and woman that Godric could _feel_ the thoughts of brutal murder running through her mind, and sat down on the elongated chair, the magick of the Summoning Bracelet in the back of Godric's whispering that it was called a "couch". It would take them at least a year to adjust to all of the changes between times - most likely several centuries had passed since they were last seen on the earth. Godric turned his attention back to the man that he had tied up, he was attempting to scream and rant at them through the Silencing Charm that he had placed on him. Godric rolled his eyes and kneeled next to Rowena, gently running his hands through the girl's raven black hair. His lips twitched in a slight smile as his fingers were caught in some of her curls - Celeste's hair had always done the exact same thing.

"She's doing better," Rowena said gently. "She needs a good rest, but with the amount of magic that we had to use to heal her, I'm not surprised by that in the slightest." Godric tensed, it wasn't common that someone was forced to rest by overload of Healing Magick. Only in extreme cases did that happen, and considering the amount of magick that must have been used in the Summoning Bracelet to bring all four of them here... She had still been conscious during that, it was the only way that she could Summon them... Snarling, Godric turned to the woman, his amber eyes burning with rage.

"Talk. Now." he snapped, pulling his word from its sheath and pointing it at her neck. The woman paled and began to sweat, her front growing wet from her urine. Gulping, she answered.

"We never asked for that _brat_ to be left with us - if it weren't for the payments -" she cut herself off, realising that she had said too much. The four friends seethed, they were being paid to take care of this child?! What the bloody hell was that for?! Godric snarled, but Salazar was the one to speak.

"The Blood Wards around the property prove that she is of close relation to either you or your husband, your clothing is of good quality and so is hers, despite it obviously being for your son there, and yet you only took her in because of _money_?!" he raged, his baritone voice darkening. Outside, dark clouds began to gather overhead, a sign that Salazar was close to losing control of his magick. Godric didn't bother attempting to calm his friend, for his anger was just. Having been nearly murdered for the sake of wealth, Salazar had more of a reason than any of them to want revenge against people with greed as deadly as theirs. The woman shook slightly, but continued to speak. Godric subtly glanced over his shoulder at Helga, knowing exactly what he would see. She was sitting next to Rowena, petting the blonde Halfling absentmindedly, her eyes glazed over as she stared at the woman. Helga was using her magic to make the woman speak the truth - it was a dangerous and risky skill, but it was one that Helga had been proud to master quite quickly.

"I've never cared for her freakishness," the woman said in an almost monotone. "That freakishness is what stole my baby sister away from me - from my life and from this world. That freakishness is what took my parents from me. The brat has her eyes, but the rest of her looks like her father. If she looked more like her mother, then maybe I would feel some sort of affection towards her." Godric could understand why she detested magick so much. She was a mundane, and it must have been magicals that murdered her entire family - it was the same reason that Salazar detested mundanes so much.

Godric felt his heart pause for a moment. If Salazar hadn't had the three of them and his children, could he have turned out like this woman? Could he have become as bitter and resentful that he would condemn even the innocent children that had done nothing wrong? In his heart he knew that the answer was that it was likely to happen, especially since they had all been forced to witness Sunnifa's burning firsthand. He snapped out of his mental tirade as the woman continued speaking.

"Those freaks adore her because of some freakish thing that she did - so I thought, if _they_ could destroy what I loved most, then _I_ would destroy what they loved most." A sick, twisted grin crossed the woman's face. "Oh, yes, I've destroyed her life as much I possibly can. She'll never understand the importance of life, now. So when they turn their backs on her - and they _will_ do that - it'll kill her, and they'll only have themselves to blame." Then she laughed; a high pitched, cold, and cruel laugh. Godric felt like he was going to vomit. This woman was willing to destroy a _child_ to get back at a world that she believed to have wronged her? How could someone possibly be capable of thinking like that?

Helga handed the blonde child to Rowena, stood, and marched over to the woman. Standing in front of her, she lifted her right leg and slammed her foot right into the woman's face. The other three couldn't help but grin at the loud crack that sounded through the room, indicating that Helga had broken the woman's nose. The woman screamed in pain, her hands flying to her face as Helga brought her foot down on the woman's knee instead, breaking that in a single blow as well. Godric and Salazar glanced nervously at each other. Helga had a fiery, explosive temper, and there were very good reasons as to why the two of them had never done anything to intentionally enrage her. And this moment was just evidence as to why that was.

Helga then grabbed the woman by her hair, yanking her up so that they were staring each other in the eyes. The woman was staring at Helga in terror, whereas Helga was growling at the woman in uncontrollable rage.

"Your. Reason. Was. _What_?" Helga snarled. "You would _dare_ beat an innocent and nearly kill _her_ in order to have some pitiful revenge against a society that's done _nothing_ against you personally?" The woman paled considerably - it became obvious that she had only intended to destroy Dorea, not kill her. In the eyes of the four friends, that only made her crimes even worse. With that, Helga dropped the woman, turning on her heels and marching back to the couch, picking up the blonde child and hugging her tightly as a loud popping noise was heard outside. Rowena turned in her seat, looking out the window at an elderly man that had appeared outside of the house. He had long, silver hair with a matching beard, wearing a navy blue set of robes that had silver crescent moons embroidered into the velvet fabric, a thick black leather belt around his waist, and black leather boots that ended around his ankles. The man looked into Rowena's eyes, his bright blue meeting Rowena's ice blue, and he rushed towards and into the house, walking into the sitting room with an incredibly upset look upon his face.

"I had hoped that Dorea would never have need of that bracelet..." he muttered, staring at the young girl in Rowena's arms with the most depressed look in his eyes. Rowena stared at the man in shock - he left this child with these monsters, knowing that she might have to use the Summoning Bracelet? Just what had he been thinking?

The woman that Helga had dropped, however, seemed to panic at the sight of the elderly man. She let out a high pitched whine, backing away into the playpen as much as she possibly could. The elderly man looked over at the woman, a sharp rage shining brightly in his eyes.

"Hello again, Petunia." he growled, his silver and scarlet magic acting up around him, causing the clouds outside to darken and gather together in preparation of a storm. Rowena raised an eyebrow; they hadn't bothered trying to learn the man and woman's names, they only wanted answers as to why they would have treated Dorea the way that they did. "Tell me, how is it possible that you've passed every Social Services test with flying colour, and yet the Summoning Bracelet has still worked properly?" he growled, lightning crackling from the wand that he had drawn. "Has it been that you've not only been misusing the protections that young Dorea has been capable of providing for you as well as herself? Have you also been misusing the money that I've been sending you to pay for Dorea's care out of my own personal vaults in order to bribe your way out of trouble?" All four founders relaxed slightly at the man's words - he was their ally, he had brought Dorea here with hopes of protection. He must have given her the bracelet as a last resort; he probably hadn't thought that she would need it.

They didn't know if they could trust him, but they knew that he wouldn't try to harm the children, any of them. And at the moment, that was the most important thing that they know.

The woman, Petunia, shuddered in fear at the voice of the elderly man. Her husband was screaming at the elderly man in what appeared to be a vicious manner, but his screams were withheld by the Silencing Charm that Godric had placed on him. The man lifted his wand, and with a silent wave, cast an unknown spell on Petunia and her husband, both crying out in agony as the spell hit them. Rowena stared at him in shock.

"W-What did you do?" she whispered, not recognising the spell. The elderly man turned to her, and upon seeing Dorea held safely in her arms, he smiled.

"A spell - technically an enchantment by classic definition, however modernly the Ministry defines it as a curse - that's commonly known as the Justice Spell. Quite simply, for every year of torment that they put dear Dorea through, they will receive three years of the same pain. If they truly repent what they did for her halfway through the punishment time, the enchantment will be lifted. If they don't regret what they did by the end of the punishment time, then the time length will double. The pattern continues on and on until they either pass away or finally regret their actions." he explained, and held out a hand to Rowena. "But where are my manner, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I take it that the four of you are the ancestors that Dorea had Summoned?" he asked. Rowena reached out and gently took his hand, Albus lifting hers to his lips and placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles.

"You're correct in that we were Summoned by young Dorea here. I am Rowena Ravenclaw, and these are my friends and family, Helga Hufflepuff," Helga nodded at the man, whose face had blanched at the names revealed. "Godric Gryffindor," Godric nodded gruffly, silently casting his approval at Albus' choice of punishment. "And -" Albus quietly cut her off, staring at Salazar in shock.

"Salazar Slytherin..." he muttered, running a hand through his long, silver beard. Salazar eyed it with disdain; it was well known among the four founders that Salazar had an obsession with keeping everything neat and tidy. It was very amusing to watch his tirades and rants as he cleaned the floors after Godric would trample into the Entrance Hall from a muddy day in the forest. Helga often tried to help, but Salazar always insisted on doing the cleaning himself, as Helga would only get in the way of his "perfection". To be fair, Salazar did have a way of cleaning that somehow left the object in question looking better than before.

"Is there something wrong with myself?" he asked. Albus shook his head, a faint smile on his face.

"I'm just pleased to see that the rumours that you were an evil man were proven false - it was said that the reason the four of you disappeared was because Salazar here murdered you all and fled the country, having concealed your bodies in the Chamber of Secrets." Albus explained. Salazar spun towards Godric, who began to back away from the angry man.

"YOU AND YOUR STUPID NICKNAMES, RICKY!" he roared, charging at the man. Godric yelped and darted out of the room, Salazar fast on his heels. Albus stared at the two of them in confusion before turning to Rowena and Helga for an explanation. Both were grinning, highly amused by the two knuckleheads.

"To put it simply, Godric gave Salazar's personal chambers the nickname the Chambers of Secrets. The students found out about the nickname and started referring to his chambers in the exact same manner." Rowena explained, but narrowed her eyes at Albus. "Care to explain as to why Salazar -" Who darted after Godric as they ran through the sitting room once more. "Was rumoured to be an evil wizard?" she asked. Albus sighed, shaking his head.

"There have been many rumours of the four of you, especially considering that according to history, all of you vanished early one morning without a single shred of evidence as to where you had gone. However," Albus smiled, his eyes twinkling brightly. "It's quite obvious to all of us as to why you disappeared off the face of the earth without so much as a farewell." Rowena shared Albus' smile, their eyes twinkling just as brightly as the other's. Helga looked between them in surprise.

"You know, I think that the two of you just might be related." she commented, looking between them. "Albus, are you perhaps a descendant of the Evansclear family?" she asked. Albus looked at her in surprise.

"Yes, I am - is that the bloodline that the two of you were Summoned from?" he inquired. They nodded, and Rowena continued.

"We're from Dorea's mother's side of the family - Godric and Salazar are from her father's." she said, pointing to them as Salazar managed to tackle Godric to the ground and attempted to pin him down in what became their several hundredth wrestling match. Albus watched the two of them with exasperation - obviously the four of them had become legends over time.

"Yes, I can _definitely_ see what James had inherited from those two..." he muttered just a touch too loud to be stated as under his breath. Rowena and Helga both burst into laughter, whereas Salazar and Godric were too busy attempting to "playfully" strangle each other - Lady Hogwarts had always called it Testicular Poisoning, as such actions were only found in males. According to her, there were only two ways of relieving the affects of such poisoning: sex and violence. Albus then turned back to Rowena and Helga, indicating to the blonde child that Helga was cradling. "Would you mind my asking as to who that child is to you?" Helga's expression softened as she gently brushed the girl's golden locks out of her face, she must have exhausted herself in trying to protect Dorea.

"She is the reincarnation of our mentor, Lady Gwenfrewi Hogwarts." she said fondly. Albus stared at Helga in shock, and Rowena frowned sadly. Obviously the history of what their mentor and grandmother-figure had done for them and their future students had been forgotten, most likely by bigoted men who refused to believe that witches were equal to men.

"She sacrificed herself to build the wards that protect the school," Rowena explained quietly. Albus' eyes widened with a mixture of shock and sadness. "She was the one that brought all of us together, protected us, taught and trained us, and made us a family. The least we could do is treat her reincarnation the same way." Albus looked at the two and then at the blonde child, nodding in understanding and approval. He personally believed that, if this girl was raised alongside Dorea, then it would be healthier for the two of them in that they had someone that they knew they could trust attending Hogwarts as a student.

It was only when there was a wailing sound outside that everyone in the sitting room froze. The founders turned to look outside as Albus stared out the front window in horror. Mundanes in strange contraptions - cars - dressed in a uniform of sorts holding small, black metal weapons - pistols - were surrounding the street outside of the house. Albus turned to the founders and the children in their arms.

"Go to Hogwarts." he ordered. "You haven't dealt with muggles," Was that the modern term for mundanes? "In over a millennia, leave this to me." Silently, the founders were shocked but did as ordered, phasing through the physical realm to the location of their home. A millennia? They had been brought a thousand years into the future?

The four appeared in what used to be Godric's office, now apparently being used by the Headmasters and Headmistresses of their school. Godric conjured four armchairs for them, each sitting in one the colour of their House crests. They could hear the portraits in the room whispering at the strange actions - did they manage to find a way to make portraits animate and capable of holding memories? Rowena looked overjoyed at the thought of everything that she could learn now, considering that magical and non-magical discoveries and advancements since she had last been seen must have gone up considerably, especially for mundanes, considering that they had to find ways to do everything without magic. How had their way techniques gone? Were there advancements to long-range weaponry like her bow? Would she be able to learn how to use such items? Were non-magical items capable of being used in a magical environment? How were mundanes and mundane-borns accepted in magical society?

Helga looked over at Rowena, highly amused by her excited fidgeting. Even with the constant movement, Dorea was fast asleep in her arms, her tiny fists clutching to Rowena's sapphire robes. It was really quite adorable, especially since Dorea had Rowena's nose as well. They honestly did look like a mother and daughter, and if you were to throw Salazar into the mix, a complete family. Helga held back a smirk and looked down at the now sleeping blonde in her own arms. The girl was nuzzled right up to her breasts, her thumb in her mouth as she slept soundly for what could possibly be the first night in ages. Helga tried not to coo at how adorable she appeared, grinning to herself as she gently held the little girl closer than before.

The moment was ruined, however, when Albus appeared in front of them with a loud cracking noise. Helga and Rowena both immediately looked from him with wide eyes to the little girls in their arms, both of whom were beginning to wake up. As Dorea began to cry a bit, Rowena glared icily at Albus and set herself to calming the petite girl down.

Albus simply watched with wide eyes as the most intelligent witch in known history worked to calm down the young girl that he saw as a granddaughter. As Dorea calmed down, she looked around with wide, innocent eyes that melted the hearts of everyone in the room; including the portraits.

"Where'm I?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her one eye with her entire hand. "Where's Kaya?" Rowena looked up at Albus, confused. Kaya? What's a Kaya? Was that something that she should know? Was it a kind of food or clothing? Perhaps a toy? Just before Rowena had a full out panic attack, Dorea looked over at the awaking blonde. "Kaya!" Rowena sighed in relief - this Kaya was the girl that was protective of Dorea, it must be either her name or a nickname, most likely the latter. The blonde opened her eyes and looked over that Dorea.

"Rea!" she shouted, reaching for Dorea. Dorea shuffled in Rowena's arms, only for her to heat up immensely, causing Rowena to yelp in pain as her arms burned and accidentally drop the girl from her lap, watching in horror and pain as the girl didn't fall, but levitated in midair. Rowena looked at Godric in shock and horror.

"Air and fire." she whispered, causing the man to tense. She was speaking of Dorea's elemental affinity; every magical being, be they human or creature, had at least one elemental ability. The most common ability was water - Salazar's element. The least common was air - Rowena's element. Each of the four friends had an ability in one of the four main elements: Helga's was earth and Godric's was fire. Of the four, a being could be born with an affinity with two or more affinities. These affinities would determine as to what kind of elemental magic the being could excel in - it was possible to learn the other elements, but it was much more difficult to do, and as such not practiced very often. Of all the combinations of affinities, there were two in particular that were rare and only ever used in pairs: the Life and Death combinations. They were referred to as such because the Life combination could grow any plant life, no matter how difficult or unnatural it was, this person would be able to grow it. The other combination, Death, was a combination that was capable of destroying everything in its path without leaving any trace of the magic used or the object destroyed.

Life was water and earth. Death was air and fire.

Everyone that knew what that combination meant froze, staring at the hovering Dorea in shock as she lowered herself to the ground and threw herself at the blonde - at _Kaya_. This child had the Death affinity; she would have to be carefully trained by masters of those elements so as to prevent her from destroying Hogwarts or an equally large building in a fit of rage. She, herself, wasn't dangerous; however her accidental magic would be exceptionally dangerous in the future. The four all looked at each other and then at Albus - if this Kaya didn't have the Life affinity, she could be put in danger that they didn't want to think about.

Kaya wiggled her way out of Helga's arms and held Dorea tightly, a bright smile on her face as the ravenette buried her face in her shoulder. Kaya giggled and patted Dorea's head, watching with a happy expression as a single golden rose grew from the tips of her fingers. Rowena nearly fell out of her seat - these two had Life and Death affinities, which had to be why Kaya came so suddenly, they Balanced each other!

Godric, however, looked at Albus. "They're Ground Mates." he muttered, a faint smile on his face as he looked down at the two children that started playing with their magic before them. Ground Mates were quite simple to understand, they were people whose magic balanced the other, and when learning control of powerful and dangerous magicks, it was important to have a Ground Mate nearby. Godric and Salazar were Ground Mates, whereas Rowena and Helga were Ground Mates. It was a fairly common occurrence that Ground Mates were the closest of people, as it was the nature of the world: Balance. Without Balance there was Chaos, and in Chaos was Death and Destruction. For every good there was an evil, for every White Magick there was Black Magick, for all Light Magick there was Dark Magick, for all Creation there was Destruction, and for all Life there was Death.

Albus looked immensely relieved at the revelation that Kaya was Dorea's Ground Mate - he hadn't wanted to separate Dorea from her friend for safety reasons, as Dorea's Magic would be immensely affected by her emotions, especially at such a young age. A simple temper tantrum, especially for her magical affinities, could lead to massive destruction and endangerment for everyone around her. However, since this Kaya was Dorea's Grounding, it meant that as long as they were near each other, their magic would react if one or the other felt threatened or an extreme amount of emotion that would lead to a lack of control. It had been for this reason that he had refused to kill Gellert all those years ago - no matter what happened between them, at their cores they were still Ground Mates, and they would always remain so. Once a Ground Mate was found, they could never be replaced. It was why Dumbledore refused to do any permanent harm; without his Grounding there to help his magic adjust to the sudden change, it would be dangerous on him and potentially fatal at his age.

Dorea looked up at everyone, very shyly and adorable. Holding her Kaya close, she spoke. "Um... Where're we?" Salazar's face lit up with that question, Dorea's voice was ever so slightly high pitched, and with her big emerald eyes she was adorable. Now if only she had the big cheeks to match them, she would officially be the most adorable child in the world. However, while Salazar was mentally imagining Dorea dressed in all sorts of frilly outfits, Albus was the one that answered.

"You're in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, my dear." His voice was gentle, his eyes soft as he looked at the girl that he had helped welcome into this world. She was his granddaughter in all but blood, and the fact that Petunia had been so willing to try and beat her to death only enraged him further. He had gotten some revenge by leaving the evidence of child abuse behind, making the police believe that they had been called because the neighbours had heard a child screaming in agony rather than it being that the Founders (deemed "suspicious people") were seen going into the house. It hadn't changed the reports much, only that the neighbours had misinterpreted the situation at hand and called in to report such a thing, but they couldn't word it properly without their children panicking and as such stated it the way that they did. No true harm done, and quite easy to understand in a court of law. At least, that's what he hoped for.

Dorea and Kaya, however, looked incredibly confused.

"But... Auntie Tunia always said dere's no such ding as magic." she said around a missing front tooth. Kaya nodded in agreement. Albus scowled at the mention, but wasn't able to answer when Salazar crouched down in front of both girls so that he could look both of them in the eyes. Holding out his hands, he used his magic to conjure a tiny diamond princess and held it out to them. Dorea stared at it in wonder while Kaya gently poked it to see if it were real.

"If Magic weren't real, would I have been able to make this for you?" he asked gently as Dorea picked up the princess, looking at it to make sure that it was real. When both girls beamed at Salazar, he knew that he had more than convinced them that magic was real.

"Will we be able to do that?" Kaya asked. Salazar nodded happily, taking note of the fact that this Kaya was more articulate than Dorea was, and that was most likely because of those monsters that she had been forced to live with - they didn't seem like the types to encourage intelligence.

"With enough training, you might be able to." he explained, gently placing a hand on both of their heads. Dorea and Kaya looked at each other and then back up at him, all three pairs of green eyes looking into each other. "If you'd like, Godric and I can work on teaching you how to control your magic soon." Godric smiled at the suggestion. With he and Salazar being Groundings, they would be able to teach Dorea and Kaya how to control the more destructive elements that they had affinities for. In order of most destructive to least destructive, the affinities went fire, water, air, then earth.

Dorea and Kaya both grinned, Dorea showing that she had a few teeth missing, and threw themselves around Salazar's neck, pulling him into a big hug. Salazar grinned at the feeling of being held like this by young children; he was already the father of a 10 year old girl and a 9 year old boy, his youngest having succumbed to Dragon Pox only a few years after Suniffa's death. Neither of his children had been very warm and open after their sister's death, and as such, Salazar had missed being able to show his affection towards children like this.

In the background, the portraits were whispering. When Salazar openly stated Godric's name, they felt an odd magic run through the school, their portraits included. It was a strange flux, and they could only come to one conclusion: this man had to be Godric Gryffindor, the people with him being the Founders. According to history, the Founders had disappeared one morning without so much as a note. Many historians were still guessing as to why and how they disappeared. Some said that Salazar might had brought the Founders to his Chamber of Secrets and murdered them all before he killed himself, others said that they had been trapped by a student and left to die. There was one theory, sprouted by the Lovegoods, that everyone had dismissed: that they had been Summoned through a Summoning Bracelet. As fate would have it, Xenophilius Lovegood was now proven to not be nearly as nutty as the world thought he was. In fact, many of the portraits higher up the tower were debating as to whether or not the Lovegoods had some Seer Blood in their veins. It was the only thing that they could all agree on that made sense, especially the idea of all the creatures that they claim to see; Seers were known to not only be able to See snippets of the past, the present, and the possible future(s), but they could also See what normal humans couldn't. Elves could see many of the same things that the Lovegoods had claimed to see (such as Nargles or Flitterwings), but many of them knew for a fact that there was no Elvish blood running through the Lovegood lines. Fae blood, possibly, but Elvish, no.

Dorea looked over at Rowena and cocked her head to the side.

"If Im ("It's I'm," Rowena corrected under her breath, not that Dorea could hear.) not gonna be livin' wid Auntie Tunia, den where're we livin'?" she asked. Rowena looked at her friends and then Albus with wide eyes - she hadn't thought of that. None of them had thought of that. By the Great Circle of Gods, none of them even owned any property other than Hogwarts! How were they going to live - and their careers? What would they be doing to ensure that these two children grew up properly and without and problems?! Dorea had already been malnourished when they had found her, she needed a proper diet and potions plan in order to regain the health that she lost while with those monsters!

It was only a few moments after Dorea had asked the question that a beautiful Fire Phoenix flamed into the room, holding out a strange piece of parchment - a letter in an envelope, much more private than a scroll - out for Albus to read. The elderly man pet the phoenix's head, taking the letter and silently encouraging the fire bird to go to Dorea and Kaya so as to introduce itself to them. Dorea looked at the great crimson and gold bird with awe, letting go of Salazar and Kaya in order to hug it tightly.

"_PWETTY_!" she squealed, petting the phoenix rather gently for a young child. While the phoenix had been surprised by the child that threw herself around its neck, it began to sing a lighthearted tune for Dorea, its fire dancing along its feathers and her hair without any harm. Everyone grinned at the sight, during which Albus opened the letter and sighed in relief. The answers to the question that Dorea had just asked had more than likely appeared on their own, most likely at the hands of the late and incredibly famous Seer, Airmid Evansclear. Helga looked at Albus curiously, a look that he caught and understood.

"I do believe that our answers are solved. This letter," Albus waved the paper slightly to show what it was called. "Is from the wizarding bank - a place where wealth is stored in vaults - named Gringotts." Salazar suddenly looked interested.

"Oh, so Blackblood Gringotts decided to take up my advice and started storing his riches under goblin protection?" he asked. Everyone looked at him in shock and he raised his hands in his defence. "It was after I ran away from that bloodtraitor brother of mine, he offered to protect my wealth and I suggested to hide it under his own type of magic. Obviously he took it to heart and decided that it was a good idea to follow." Shaking his head, Albus continued.

"It was a summons for a will reading. Apparently, the four of you were named in it, as well as a Michaela Dupont." With those words, Kaya looked up.

"Did someone say m'name?" she asked. Albus blinked, but then nodded slightly. It made sense when he thought about it; Dorea had difficulty pronouncing this, and as such was likely called Michaela "Kaya" as the pronunciation is easier.

Dorea nodded at the fact that Kaya's name was actually Michaela, and pet the phoenix more, its song becoming louder as Dorea seemed to grow healthier. Her face began to gain a healthy glow, her cheeks becoming a faint rosy pink colour, her lips once pale becoming a bright shade of pink, her slightly glazed eyes began to shine, and her hair began to gain a faint shine to it, the curls loosening enough that her hair, once a bob length, now came down to her shoulders. Salazar grinned at the sight, it felt good for him to see her as she would look when healthy, to him it only confirmed that he wanted to raise her, care for her, protect her, and love her as if she were his own.

"Does the letter state how we'll be getting there?" Rowena asked. Albus nodded and indicated to the fireplace.

"We'll be travelling through the Floo Network, meaning that we travel through fire." Godric looked ecstatic at the idea of travelling using his favoured element. "The goblins don't take kindly to human - there have been more than just a few wars between the two races over money and land -" The founders sighed, of course greed would be a reason behind such wars. "And however it was that you traveled here is most likely lost knowledge; as such the goblin would most likely pierce you when you arrived in such a manner." The four nodded, the goblins of this time were most likely a warrior race that learned to not trust anyone due to their past, they could all understand that, Helga and Godric the most. "I think that I should go first so that you can understand what to do. You need only remember one thing, the network will push you out of the fireplace when you arrive at your destination, so when you feel a push be sure to take a step forward." Albus then shook his head, muttering about people getting lost or something along those lines.

The elderly man then stood up, tucked his armchair in towards his desk, and walked over to the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of powder from a pot sitting on the mantel, he looked back at the four and the children that were now watching him with interest and curiosity sparkling in their eyes. "This is called Floo Powder, it's the dried form of a potion that allows one to travel through the fire." he explained quickly, then turned back to the fireplace. Setting it alight with a flick of his free hand, he held out the fist filled with powder, and stated in a very clear voice "Gringotts Bank, Bloodhook's Office!" and dropped the powder. As the flames turned a bright green, Albus stepped into the fireplace and disappeared. Everyone continued to stare at the fire until Dorea spoke up.

"DAT'S SO COOL!" she shrieked, her lips stretching into an awed grin, her eyes sparkling and full of life. "I WANNA TWY!" Chuckling, Salazar picked Dorea up, placed her on his hip, and walked over to the fireplace to grab some Floo Powder. He looked back at his friends and siblings.

"Helga, would you take Michaela? And Godric, could you at least _try_ to listen to what Sir Albus said in concerns for this method of travelling?" he requested. Helga nodded, pulling Michaela onto her lap. Godric pouted, but nodded all the same. He would love to experiment with the Floo, but now wasn't the time to do so. Mentally, he made a note to remind himself that he needs to start with Floo experimentation, possibly finding a way to make a similar form of transportation for all elements, not just fire. And really, only being able to travel between fireplaces was just _so_ limiting... Being able to travel through pure fire alone, now _that_ was something that he needed to create.

Godric watched as his friend and their new charge walked into the fireplace and disappeared. Looking at the females in the room, he nodded.

"ME NEXT!" he exclaimed, causing the three to jump as he dashed over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of the powder, stated the location and stepped in.

It wasn't nearly as pleasant as he thought it was.

He managed to keep his eyes open the entire time, though part of him wished that he hadn't. He was spinning, and it was so quickly, thousands of open fireplaces danced before his eyes. Trying not to breathe in the ashes, Godric reminded himself of what Albus said. Step out when you feel a push, step out when you feel - Godric was distracted by something ramming into his elbow, sending sharp pains through his entire arm. Wincing slightly, he focused on trying to find the push. Fortunately, it wasn't long after his arm began throbbing that the push happened. Stepping forward, Godric began to tumble slightly, but managed to catch himself. Looking up, he saw Albus, Salazar, and Dorea standing before him. Dorea looked like she had a much more enjoyable experience than he had, her eyes dancing with excitement at what she had just done. There was a touch of soot on her nose, and a splash of soot on the hems of Salazar robes, but other than that, the two were as clean as can be. Salazar, however, scrunched up his nose in disdain at Godric's appearance and waved a hand towards his friend. Godric felt the familiar sensation of Salazar cleaning his friend via magic, and nodded in appreciation, quietly indicating towards the bottoms of Salazar's own robes.

Something rammed into Godric from behind, causing him to fall over while whatever or whomever it was that hit him tumbled in the other direction. Groaning at he got up (he had hit his elbow once again), Godric looked over and saw Rowena curled up in the fetal position, clutching her head. Looking above her, Godric winced: Rowena hit her head on a marble statue depicting a beautiful woman. Albus let out a quiet breath in sympathy, then knelt next to and helped her to her feet. Salazar pulled a Pain Relieving potion from his belt and handed it to Rowena, who was furiously rubbing what must have become a bump on her head. A wooshing sound occurred, and Helga appeared with Michaela on her hip through the fireplace. Staring at the sight before her, Helga turned to Salazar.

"Godric was in the way and Rowena crashed into him?" she asked for confirmation. Salazar nodded and added a touch of detail.

"Hitting her head on a marble statue while she bounced off of his back." he finished. Helga flinched slightly at the mention, but looked over at Rowena. Seeing that her friend was alright, she turned her attention to the only non-human in the room: the goblin Bloodhook. He was short, his thin hair silver and his narrow black eyes staring at the five adults before him with distaste, whereas with Dorea and Michaela his gaze turned softer and - dare she even think it? - fond. Perhaps a mere fondness for young children over adults? Afterall, young children didn't know how to properly lie, they didn't know how to steal, and they certainly didn't know how to kill. They didn't know hatred or prejudice, and by simply thinking of these reasons, Helga could immediately understand as to why Bloodhook, and goblins in general, would be fond of children.

As Bloodhook's gaze met Helga's, the goblin cleared his throat, bringing the attention of everyone in the room to him. Dorea looked at him with curiosity.

"Why's his ears so big? Can I get ears like dem?" she asked Salazar out of pure innocence. Albus looked at Dorea as though she had just asked if she could be murdered, but his attention was drawn away from her at the sound of a deep, baritone chuckle. Turning, Albus saw that it was Bloodhook himself that was chuckling. Sending Dorea a sharp toothed grin, Bloodhook spoke for the first time.

"And this is why children are precious - they speak what's on their minds, rather than what they've been taught to say." he commented. "And no, child, you won't be able to have ears like my own, unless you are a Metamorphmagus." Dorea looked at him in confusion.

"What'sa me-met-metamorf?" she asked. Bloodhook blinked and explained, rather quickly, that a Met-a-morph-mage-us was a person who could change their appearance at will. Dorea looked so awed by the idea of being able to make herself appear however she wanted to that she would remain in daydreams until Michaela's name would be mentioned in the Will of the late Lady Evansclear. Turning to Albus, Bloodhook pulled out a small, crystal box and held it out to him.

"As witness to the completion of the Will, you're required to be the one to unseal it. Ministry's orders." he stated at the questioning look. Nodding in understanding, Albus waved a hand over the box to get a feel of its magic, and then using his wand to channel the energy - and Rowena could understand exactly why he had to use it, it was because his magic was unbalanced due to lack of contact with his Grounding - he opened it. Placing it on the table, a misty form of an elderly woman appeared. Her eyes were an olive green in colour, her skin almost as pale as Dorea's was, and her hair was bright silver and held back in a tight bun. She wasn't as wrinkled as Lady Hogwarts had been, but she was smaller, and the image was wearing warm mulberry robes with a cream colour trim. The image smiled at the people before her, her eyes opened widely, slightly glazed but sparkling at the same time. The founders looked at each other, eyes like those were a sign of a true Seer.

Seers and Oracles were very different, Seers could see what had been, what was, and what could be, Oracles could see the tapestries of Fate and Destiny and would speak in riddles that Arionite, the god of Paths and Guidance, blessed them with. From their travels with Lady Hogwarts, the four of them knew that the majority of the time, Oracles were not seen as true Seers and often entitled as frauds, especially Seers of the Trelawny Line, the line that descended directly from the Greek Oracle Cassandra (the one, that according to legend, was cursed by the Greek God Apollo -the Greek version of Arionite - to have not one person believe her predictions after she refused to bed him), were commonly misguided into believing that they were Seers rather than Oracles. There were few that could tell the difference, and the only reason that the four knew about it was because they were taught by the centaur tribe that took refuge in their forest: they had been told that if they were to meet an Oracle, that she must be protected and cared for as though she were a defenceless child, because if her true powers were discovered, wars would be raged in the names of the different gods and goddesses of the Magical Realms.

"I can See you, my children of another time." the elderly woman spoke, a faint smile on her face. "My name is Airmid Evansclear, last Lady of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Evansclear." Well, that most certainly answered the question as to why they were here to Helga and Rowena - Dorea was descended from the Evansclears on her mother's side of the family, after all. But what did Michaela have anything to do with this? "Before I leave you four and the two daughters of the Sun and Moon with my belongings and line, I must tell you the story of my family." Godric grunted.

"Line? How do we become a part of her line?" he muttered under his breath, but turned his attention back to the image as she continued to speak.

"I am the eldest daughter of Astrid Lovegood,"Rowena took a deep breath, another of her descendants? "And Pierson Evansclear. Of my three younger siblings, my youngest sister was a Squib, and left the magical world soon after she came of age. She married a young man by the name of Harry Evans, changed her name to Rose, and had two daughters: Petunia and Lily, the mother of young Dorea in Salazar's lap." Dorea paid slightly more attention now that her name was mentioned, but she was still in a loopy daze from whatever the nice lady and really nice mister gave her before. When'd the old lady get here, anyway? "On my side of the family, I had two children. They were identical twins, however due to difficulties of childbirth, only one survived." Here, the elderly woman's face grew extremely sad, her eyes holding such a large amount of pain and longing that Rowena and Helga fought the desire to walk up to her and hug her. This was only an image, the woman before them had already passed on. "Shortly after my firstborn daughter passed, my second daughter was taken away by my younger brother, who desired the title of Lord Evansclear, and sold my darling Angeline into a family that was willing to take her.

"He bound her magic to the level equivalent of a squib's, however when she was fifteen she had a burst of accidental magic so powerful that it destroyed the block on her core, killing everyone around her within a two block radius. The muggles, or as you refer to them, mundanes, still have no idea as to what happened that day to cause the explosion." This is why Salazar detested blood and birth brothers, they were willing to destroy anything in their path to get what they wanted. "Shortly afterwords, Angeline married a man named Christopher Dupont, and unfortunately passed away while giving birth to the Half High Elfling in Helga's lap, my granddaughter Michaela Olivia Evanslcear-Dupont, or only Evansclear if she would prefer." Here, everyone looked at Michaela, who sleepily nodded.

"Don't like meanie's name... Like mummy's..." she muttered, yawning and holding onto Helga. She was just so tired... Helga nodded at Bloodhook, who got the documentation out to change Michaela's name to only Evansclear. While it wouldn't change her blood relation - with creature blood it was difficult, High Creature Blood being the most difficult of all - it would stall the resentment that the magical world might have towards her for only being half human. Rowena, however, had to take a deep breath and tried not to scream. Dorea was just completely abused, and Michaela was obviously emotionally abused; what the bloody hell was wrong with people in this time?! These two children shouldn't be so trusting of people they just met, let alone more than happy to get rid of their only living family to live with those same people!

The image, and the Will, continued.

"As such, I leave the Evansclear title and all that goes with it to my Heiress, Michaela Evansclear. To the guardians of the two angels: Godric, Salazar, Rowena, and Helga." All four blinked in shock, they didn't think that she would be willing to address them by name. Bloodhook, however, paled drastically - the Slytherin Vaults hadn't been touched since Salazar's time, due to his orders that they wouldn't be opened unless he gave his permission. As such, he had no idea how the man would react to the fact that his son had to live with the few items that he had as a child rather than his entire inheritance. "To each of you, I leave a vial of my blood to be used in a Blood Adoption ritual and four new names for you to use in the modern world: For Salazar, your official name will be Salvatore Edmund Evansclear, born in 1957. For Rowena, your official name will be Rowynda Violet Evansclear, born in 1960. For Helga, your name will be Helen Janet Evansclear, born in 1953. Finally, for Godric, your name will be Richard Rowland Evansclear, born in 1952. I had all the documentation for all four of you done in Switzerland, the only politically neutral country in both the mundane and magical realms, including birth certificates, medical records, schooling: everything. You need not worry about surviving in the modern world. Finally, I leave a complete collection of all my memories for four of you to use to learn of the history and changes of the past thousand or so years in the world.

"I wish you all the best of luck, and please remember that Light does not always equal Purity, just as Dark does not always equal Evil." And with that, the image faded. Bloodhook then brought out a folder of several documents and five vials, four filled with the deep red blood, the fifth with a silvery substance that everyone but the children knew where the woman's memories. Godric, being the one closest to Bloodhook that didn't have a sleepy child in his arms, gently took the folder rather than the vials and began to leaf through it, seeing that it was a list of Evansclear estates, including but not limited to properties, patents, shares, and other such items. Looking at Bloodhook, Godric was the first to speak since the ending of the Will Reading.

"Would it be possible for us to perform the Blood Adoption, and have all the medicinal updates, here in the bank? I highly doubt that we can go and walk into a Healer's housing and explain everything without being deemed mentally unstable." he commented. Bloodhook nodded, pulling out a separate group of folders and handing them to Godric.

"The Late Lady Evansclear had arranged for all of this to happen for the four of you as well as the children. She's having us check all of you for immunities to certain diseases, magical stability and strength, as well as any possible blocks on your cores." he stated as lightly as one would speak about the weather. "It wasn't cheap for her to arrange, of course, but it will be done in complete secrecy. All of these will happen in the Time Chamber, which will allow all of these rituals and medicinal updates to happen in less than an hour, even though they should technically be occurring over the span of a week." Rowena looked overjoyed at the prospect of learning about the magic behind this 'Time Chamber'. Time magic was only a thought in their time, the fact that people were now able to manipulate it as much as they want - and most likely only used in certain circumstances, aging a week on a mere outside hour would be very harsh on the body - sounded absolutely amazing! Would there be books on the subject that she could purchase? Oh, what about the currency? Did people still barter? Or was there a form of solid money, just like in Greece and Rome?

Bloodhook summoned a worker, also a goblin, to lead the six to the Time Chamber while Albus stayed behind. During the time that the Founders had taken to get to Gringotts, he had arranged for a meeting between himself, Bloodhook, Bloodfang (he believed the two clans were related, but he wasn't sure how), and Branch Manager Ragnarok. Bloodhook was the manager for the Evansclear and Dumbledore lines, seeing as how the House of Dumbledore was in allegiance with Evansclear. Bloodfang was the manager of the Black and Potter lines, and was notorious for being one of the most difficult goblins to work with when you weren't his direct client. Ragnarok, being the Head of the British Gringotts Branch, would have to deal with the issue of the Dursleys, considering that they were embezzling money of the Dumbledore line and abusing the Heiress to the Potters and the Blacks. And it might even be possible for Ragnarok to aid Dumbledore in convincing the Wizengamot to allow Sirius to receive visitors, if only so that Albus could question him. After all, if Narcissa Malfoy was allowed to visit her sister, Bellatrix LeStrange, then why wouldn't he be allowed to visit Sirius?

Albus, sitting in the armchair that Salazar had just left, watched as the goblins that he had arranged to meet walked into the room, each staring him down with untrusting eyes. Mentally gulping, Albus prepared himself to explain what had happened to Bloodfang and Ragnarok.

This wasn't going to be a good day.

**~O~O~O~**

Much to the rage of those who knew, it had taken 3 (outside) hours for the Gringotts Healers, all of whom were sworn under complete secrecy as to the events that were happening, to heal Dorea and Michaela to perfect health. While Michaela had spent more time being mentally healed from the psychological and emotional abuse thrown her way by her father and step-family, Dorea had to be placed in a magically induced coma in order to the Healers to reset the vast majority of the bones in her limbs and torso just so that they could they could be healed properly. After that, they focused on healing her malnutrition and dehydration, finally ending the three week (inside) healing session with mental healing, the removal of an Accidental Magic Block that James Potter had placed on her when she was five months old, and updating her vaccinations.

Godric, at the moment, was rubbing his aching left arm from where they had stuck those needles in to pour the vaccinations into his blood. He was now officially convinced that Healers were demons incarnated, and set himself on teaching Dorea and Michaela to avoid hospitals at all costs.

In translation, play off the injury until you can't physically do so anymore.

Needless to say, Helga mentally swore to keep a close eye on those three from now on. She knew how Godric got when it came to healing, and the gods only knew how much worse it would be now that there were ways to get the potion directly into the blood with minimal damage to the body.

However, the Healers had brought the founders and Albus bad news when they finished healing Dorea. Within her scar was something extremely evil, something that they had never seen before. What they knew about it, however, was that it was constantly draining on her core. On the bright side, her core was much, much stronger and would remain so for the rest of her life, but on the flip side her magic would be that much more difficult for her to control without constant training. As such, they were going to arrange for one of their best Curse Breakers to visit, once again under oaths of secrecy, to see as to what they could do to remove it. Once removed, they would have a Suppresser - which Rowena identified as a golden necklace with a warded charm on it - placed on her until she had learned enough control that she could attend Hogwarts safely. If they managed to place the Suppresser on soon enough and began teaching her control, then she would be able to safely attend Hogwarts with the rest of her year. Thankfully, Michaela would be able to learn right alongside Dorea, meaning that it would be easier to teach them both at the same time due to them being Ground Mates.

Even though the Evansclears, the Potters, and the Blacks were all Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses, the process would put a dent in all three bank accounts. The only reason that Salazar convinced them to split it between the three would be because then, if anyone wanted the documentations as to how the treatment was paid for, they would be able to provide the documents without raising eyebrows as to why she had access to their vaults when she was a little girl. The goblins were impressed with the logic and went with the idea: after all, Salazar Slytherin was the First Friend of the Nation for a reason.

Waiting had been a pain for Godric, who was entertaining Dorea and Michaela with tales of his adventures with Lady Hogwarts before the two of them met Rowena in her tower. Just as he was finishing the adventure where he and Lady Hogwarts had saved a village from a Dire Wolf (and hadn't that been fun: Lady Hogwarts beat him over the head with her staff for running recklessly into danger the way that he had) when a young woman, one who couldn't be any older than himself, wandered into atrium outside of the Time Chamber. Ragnarok had agreed to allow them to use the Time Chamber free of charge for this part of Dorea's treatment, seeing as how it was something that none of them had ever dealt with before and they had absolutely no idea how long any of it could take. It was only by complete chance that they had caught this at such a young age, most diagnostic charms would miss the kind of magic that was stuck within Dorea's scar. Albus' certainly had, and he was a more reliable source for accurate readings than most in the Healing profession simply due to his experience and control.

Dorea looked at the woman that had entered the atrium with a curious gaze. Her hair was bright blue, short and spiked. She was wearing a matching miniskirt and a jacket, both made of something that looked like dark green leather. She had a black band shirt for Poison, fishnet tights, and black leather boots. Around her neck was a black satin choker with a silver pentagram dangling from the fabric. In her person opinion, Dorea thought she looked super cool - Uncle Vernon would say otherwise, but Uncle Vernon was a mean old fart (don't tell him she said that, though. He'd lock her in her cupboard again) that Mister Sally and Mister Ricky said that she shouldn't listen to. The young woman looked around, found Ragnarok, and walked towards him.

"Greetings Manager Ragnarok, may your gold flow freely and your enemies cower at your name." she greeted. Dorea blinked, she had an American accent. Or was it Canadian? She could never tell the difference. Ragnarok returned the greeting, and she continued. "I have no intentions of sounding rude, but why was I pulled from a new site of Aztec Runes to come here?" Ragnarok indicated towards Dorea herself, whispering something to the lady that Dorea couldn't hear. The lady's face fell from confused to concerned and angry, looking over at Dorea's scar with shock and worry. Dorea felt her hand reach up to touch the scab that was left from when her parents died (apparently not in a car crash like Aunt 'Tunia said, but they died to protect _her_ instead). She didn't even realise that she had been reaching for it until she felt her fingers brush against the puckered scab.

The woman walked over to Dorea and knelt before her, a soft smile on her face. "Hi sweetheart, my name's Elizabeth, but you can call me Lizzie. I just need to check your scar for a minute, I swear that this won't hurt, alright?" she asked. Dorea nodded slowly, lowering her hand and allowing Lizzie to brush her bangs to the side, a red-brown stick in her hand. Muttering under her breath, Lizzie cast the spell and watched with hidden panic as the scar began to glow black. Turning, she looked at Ragnarok and nodded, confirming their worst fears.

Dorea's scar was a shard of Voldemort's soul. Fortunately, it wasn't a proper Horcrux, but the fact that his soul had been torn so many times that it was able to splinter so easily was what concerned Lizzie. It meant that Voldemort's soul had to have been torn at least 5 times, one time for each element and the final for the spiritual energy. This concerned her, the first Horcrux would be aligned with the element of water, then air, then fire, then earth, and ending with a spiritual ability that was only found in Necromancers, only Black rather than White in magical alignment. Since this was lacking an element, that meant it represented the mind, and as such could cause a mental connection between Dorea and Voldemort that had never been heard of before, a mental connection that could never be fully blocked until one or the other was dead. On the upside, the ritual to move the soul shard into a different container would be much simpler with it not being a proper Horcrux.

Lizzie smiled once more at Dorea, and asked Godric to bring Dorea and to follow her. The ritual would only take a few minutes to set up, a few minutes to conduct, and about a minute or two to ensure that the soul shard had left no negative effects on Dorea. Then the group could leave and move into the Evansclear Manor.

Later that day, Salazar was walking Dorea and Michaela through the halls of the Evansclear Manor. The Manor was quite large, sitting on a property of over 10 acres. The manor itself was open to the mundane community not too far a walk away, however there were wards that would cause the mundanes to believe that anything magical that they had seen was actually something that they would normally see. For example, instead of hippogriffs in the fields behind the manor, they would think that they had seen horses (which they also had, and Godric had already claimed which was going to be his). At the moment, Helga and Rowena were off shopping with a Gringotts card (which worked as a debit card in both the magical and mundane realms, apparently Dorea's mother had given them the idea of one, so they had been given one for each of their vaults respectively. Dorea and Michaela wouldn't be given theirs until they were both of age, Rowena didn't want to risk them becoming addicted to shopping) for clothes for themselves, Salazar, Godric, Michaela, and Dorea, whereas Salazar was taking Dorea and Michaela to figure out which rooms they wanted. Quite honestly, he thought that he had the more difficult job.

Dorea and Michaela had completely different ideas as to what they wanted for rooms, but they agreed that the rooms had to be right next to each other. Michaela wanted a massive room with a big bed, a balcony, a massive closet, essentially everything that a little kid wants in a room. Dorea, however, said that she wanted a smaller room that was more practical than it was extravagant. The problem that Salazar was facing was that it seemed that none of the rooms that fit what both children wanted were next to each other, and that was the one thing that they both demanded to have. Sighing, Salazar opened the next set of doors to peak into. The one on the right had a blue and silver theme going on, and was exactly what Michaela wanted in that it was extravagant and rich, but not snotty and spoiled. Giggling, Michaela threw herself onto the bed, snuggling up into the soft cream quilt that lay on the bed, exclaiming:

"I want this one!" Salazar looked at Dorea and the two of them went to the room next door, Salazar praying to every deity out there that she would be happy with this room. Opening the oak door, Salazar blinked in surprise, then vowed to make multiple sacrifices that night, because whomever heard him had answered his prayers. The room was a gold and green theme, with a simple double bed against one wall, a few dressers across from it, a fireplace to keep the room warm in the winter, and a writing desk below the window. There was an attached closet and what Salazar assumed to be a bathroom, which would come in handy for when Dorea was a teenager. There was a door leading outside onto the balcony that attached to Michaela's room as well. Squealing in delight, Dorea danced around the room, the dress that Godric had transfigured for her spinning up and out with her movements. Salazar grinned at the sight; Dorea was so adorable when she was excited. To his surprise, she then bounded over to Salazar and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly around the neck.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she babbled excitedly, kissing him on the cheek. Salazar grinned and kissed Dorea's forehead, holding her close as he lifted her up. She was so precious, so innocent; it was so hard to believe that anyone could possibly want to ever hurt her. Dorea nuzzled her face into the base of Salazar's neck, right where his shoulder began. She felt so safe with him, and they looked so much alike that they had to be family, right? And since they were family, unlike meanie old Vernon, that meant that he would love her forever and ever, right? Because that's what family's supposed to do?

Hearing Dorea's excitement, Michaela entered the room just in time to see Dorea grinning and hugging Salazar like he was the best thing in the world. Looking around slightly, she realised that Salazar had finally managed to find her and Dorea rooms that they would both love. Overjoyed, Michaela jumped onto Salazar's back, laughing as he adjusted himself and Dorea so as to hold up both girls. Letting out the first burst of laughter in ages, Salazar spun around in a circle, causing both girls to laugh and squeal and hold onto him tighter. Moving Dorea so that she was also on his back, Salazar left the room and took off down the hall, both girls hollering for him to run faster and to run down the stairs as well.

Not long after, Helga and Rowena entered the manor with Godric in tow, all three of their arms covered in bags. Helga and Rowena were flushed with the excitement of shopping; Godric was horrified at how many shoes and dresses and skirts and blouses and _shoes_ those two women could buy in under an hour. Dropping the bags on the ground, Godric groaned and stumbled over to the bench under a mirror in the entrance hall, crashing down on it and sighing as he was finally able to get off his feet. He sat back up, however, when he heard the squeals of delight from just up the stairs.

The three adults looked up to see Salazar crawling around on his hands and knees, Dorea and Michaela perched on his back. All three of them were smiling and laughing, Dorea and Michaela more so when Salazar would wiggle around to send them slightly off balance. Godric grinned widely at the sight, Salazar had always been amazing with young children. Helga laughed and clapped her hands at the image before her, ecstatic that Salazar was able to make Dorea open up to him so quickly. Rowena, however, bit her lip nervous at the idea of Dorea or Michaela falling off of Salazar's back. Couldn't they get injured from doing that?

Salazar, noticing that the others had gotten back, looked at Dorea and Michaela.

"You two want to see what they've gotten you?" he asked. Both girls chimed out a very loud "YEAH!" and, darting off of Salazar's back, bound down the stairs and surrounded Helga and Rowena. Chuckling, Salazar got up, wincing slightly at the soreness on his knees. Neither of the girls were very heavy, but walking around on your knees or even crawling got sore after a while. While Rowena and Helga were dragged off by the excited 3 year olds to show off their new rooms, Godric walked over to Salazar with an amused smile on his face.

"Decided to play the horse, did you?" he asked. Salazar shrugged.

"Still better than the time that Celeste beat the "Dragon" over the head with his own staff." he retorted, sending Godric a very knowing look. Godric looked at his friend in horror.

"She promised she'd never tell about that!" he claimed. Salazar grinned and started to walk towards the rooms - he had selected the one that was across the hall from Dorea's, just in case she had a night terror.

"She kept that promise - she showed me the memory instead." And with that, Salazar ran off, Godric hot on his heels and screaming about sneaky Slytherins.

**~O~O~O~**

That night, Salazar was woken up by something shaking him back and forth. Groaning slightly and turning over, he opened his eyes to see that Dorea was kneeling next to him, gnawing on her bottom lip nervously. Casting a quick Tempus, Salazar noticed that the glowing numbers indicated that it was 2:19 am. Sighing, he turned back to Dorea and sat up.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked quietly. Dorea shifted, her lavender night gown scrunched up in her tiny fists.

"C-Can I sleep with you tonight?" she asked. Salazar smiled in understanding and nodded, moving a bit to the side and holding the covers open for Dorea to curl up under. Nestled against his side, Dorea buried her face into his chest and tightly gripped his pyjama shirt. Salazar placed a hand on her back, holding her in a comfortably loose manner as the tiny girl fell asleep against his chest. Yawning, Salazar closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into Morpheus' open arms, unknowingly forging the bond between the two that would allow both to heal from their painful pasts.

**~O~O~O~O~O~**

**Name Meanings:**

**Adair (m): Edgar**

**Airmid (f): Celtic goddess for the order of Tuatha de Danaa, Goddess of healing, medicinal plants, keeper of spring, regenerates or brings the dead to life again.**

**I just want you guys to note this: Dorea is borderline albino, meaning that she barely has any skin pigment whatsoever - only just enough so that she doesn't look like Riddle in his regenerated body. The only exceptions are her lips and when she blushes, but even then it's because of abnormal levels of blood flow to those areas of the body. As such, her lips are bright red, and when she blushes it's not pink, but goes straight from off-white to red. Does that make sense to everyone now?**

**Another note: Salazar's view of brothers is NOT my own. I just need something to make him sympathise with Sirius when they meet, which would make the transition for Sirius all the easier. Especially considering that the man that his mother worshipped is all but wrapped around his Blood Daughter's finger like a piece of tape.**

**And I think I should explain this before anyone asks it: the Founders understand English because of the magick of the Summoning Bracelet. In order for them to properly raise Dorea, they need to be able to understand her, and as such, they understand modern English. They might not understand some slang terms, but they understand the most of it.**

**Word Count: 14,545**


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